It’s Monday, September 16, 6:41 AM PST.
I’ve learned that the thing that allows PTSD to manifest is dysregulation or ‘hijacking’ of the nervous system.
I have a bag of tricks: Sour candy,and spray bottles of cold water. A deep wave of shame washes over me every time I pack it to go to a party.
On some horrifically deep level, I still think a man touching me without my consent was my fault.
It’s Sunday, September 15 10:40 AM PST .
After adding a paisley orb to my daily candy jar, I don’t feel sad anymore.
I forgot what it’s like to feel normal. I wonder what things would’ve been like if I’ve done this a long time ago.
I’m sad that friends who have become strangers never got to see the real me. I’m happy that the strangers who have become friends now do.
It’s Saturday, September 14, 7:31 AM PST.
I’ve slowly come to accept that trashy is always going to be one of my adjectives.
I already have the tattoos and the aesthetic, but I think it’s important to realize I am not one of those perfectly poised, elegant women who went through one form of finishing school or the other.
I prefer words like fuck and bullshit to the alternatives and will probably always carry the faintest scent of white trash.
on things that terrify me open.substack.com/pub/theasterisk/p/fear?r=8qt9d&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=email
It’s Friday, September 13, 7:31 AM PST.
It can be really hard to walk through that door to what’s next. The comfort of the familiar can be insanely seductive.
You should have so much gratitude for people or places or things that give you a push through.
You might tumble through and land on your knees, but eventually, you’ll stand up even taller than you were before.
It’s Thursday, September 12 9:19 AM PST.
The word authenticity on social media has become so overused, to me, that it’s lost all meaning.
I prefer the word raw. It’s scary, and a far cry from the manicured, perfectly poised feeling that the word authenticity gives me.
Being raw means posting that selfie after an hour of ugly crying, not because it looks good, but because it’s you.
It’s Wednesday, September 11 4:15 AM PST.
I’ve spent a lot of time crying this morning because of a man who touched me without my consent, and another man who I was really scared of when he sat next to me,and women think I deserved it or think it didn’t happen.
A friend of mine outed Marc Emery, and I thought I was as brave and strong as she was. I wasn’t.
I was once really happy to be alive. Now I’m afraid to wake up.
